#nicochats

[omgmarauders]

( closed starter / @cxndyflvss)

Nico rummaged around the mailroom for the parcel he'd had delivered. Finally finding the small box he'd waited perhaps six months for, he shoved it under his arm. Moving to the small mailbox with his apartment number on it, he looked through the mail. Bills. Flyers. Useless nonsense. And a letter from his father. He left that one and took the rest.

Turning around and brushing his hair out of his face, he was stunned to characteristic silence at the presence in the doorway.

[omgmarauders]

"We're busy." Nico huffed, gathering the remainder of the previous lesson's supplies. After no sound of additional movement, he added: "Unless you plan on booking a lesson, leave."

[omgmarauders]

( closed starter / @overpoweredmumu )

Nico sliced through nothingness, practicing the new sword technique he'd watched. He'd have preferred to hear the sound of metal clashing against metal... but the art of the sword wasn't something anyone was too interested in these days. He enjoyed it, though. He enjoyed the feeling of the blade in his grasp. A weapon he could wield and use to its full potential. It was a far superior feeling to a gun, or even a bow and arrow. Little skill, in his opinion, was required for those. Not that he was really in a position to be scoffing at people's skill. Not like he had to put much effort into his own.

Another tumble and slice at the air masked the footsteps of the person who approached him. Until they were close enough that he could reach the sword out in their direction and turn his head to look at them. "If you're not here to fight, then go."

[omgmarauders]

( closed starter / @wethepowered )

Nico looked down at the paper noting his next appointment was in five minutes. He'd just about managed to get the last kid out through the door. Though, his next client was just noted down as a booking by the SWC. So, he supposed the next hour would be interesting.

Hands grabbed the various props that had been used in their last lesson. Arrows sheathed and the bow and arrow put to the side. A wooden sword (imagine a child with a real one) lay discarded on the floor, too. He picked that one up and placed it on the rack. The kid's parents hadn't exactly paid him to teach more than just martial arts... but when somebody expresses an interest in swords, you don't just turn them away, do you?

Tidying the desk in the corner, he didn't turn when the door opened. "Dump your bag wherever." He waved his hand to the opposite wall. "We can start on the hour." Brushing hair out of his face, he turned around to meet them.